


i guess i'll never learn

by kingsnow



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2020-06-03 03:48:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19455712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kingsnow/pseuds/kingsnow
Summary: Webster knows falling in love is a mistake, but he can't help making it.





	i guess i'll never learn

**Author's Note:**

  * For [howlandreads](https://archiveofourown.org/users/howlandreads/gifts).



> This is my first fic in the fandom, so I hope I'm not getting anything too wrong.

Hegenau had been hell after the hospital. He’d forgotten how loud war could be, how uncomfortable it was to be dirty. It isn’t enough that he was expected to die, he had to be miserable while doing it. But then they hit Landsberg, and Webster filled with a rage that made any prior irritation seem quaint.

Everyone gave Liebgott a wide berth once they get back. Technically wandering off is going AWOL, but nobody said anything so it was a moot point.

“Cigarette?” Web offered.

“Yeah, that’s just what I need,” Liebgott muttered. “What do you want?”

Web shrugged. It was obvious that he wanted to see how his friend (or whatever Liebgott was to him) was doing, but it wasn’t like he could say the words. He lit the cigarette Liebgott had refused, and inhaled smoke that shouldn’t be so comforting. “What do you want?” he asks, after a few moments of heated silence.

Liebgott grimaced, and grabbed the cigarette from out of Web’s mouth. He inhaleed almost spitefully. Web thought they’d left that in Hagenau, but Leibgott’s moods have always been unpredictable, and after what they’d seen, there isn’t much Web wouldn’t forgive Leibgott for. Web just took another cigarette, and lit it for himself. 

“I brought you something,” Web said, passing Liebgott the bottle of champagne he’d looted from one of those disgraceful nazi fucks in the village. He’d already loosened the cork and had a few sweet gulps. It was the best wine he’d tasted since Normandy, where the liquor had been plentiful. He’d walked back to the billet they were bunking in to bring it to Leibgott, but his bed was empty. Grant had told him that he’d skulked off somewhere, and that he didn’t want to be found. Web hadn’t listened, there was something that had been tugging inside of him since Hageneau and it could no longer be denied. Despite everything -- hell, maybe because of everything -- he had grown soft and his heart had ached unbearably when he’d seen Liebgott’s wet eyes in the back of the truck that afternoon.

Joe’s face softened as he accepted the offering. “Thanks, buddy,” he said, in a voice so tender and broken it made Web want to take Joe in his arms. He took a swig from the bottle, and then a longer one. “Better than the shit I’ve been drinking,” Joe said, passing the bottle back to Web, who obligingly takes another drink.

Maybe Joe hadn’t needed Webster’s provisions, because Web knows he’d have to be drunk to take Web’s face in his hand. Nothing Joe does is gentle, and his grip on Web’s jaw is no exception. For a bewildering moment, Web thought Joe was going to kiss him. He closed his eyes in anticipation, but to his surprise Joe brushes his thumb across Web’s bottom lip. When he looks up, Liebgott is sucking his thumb. His stomach tightens, for the sight of Liebgott’s hungry eyes looking into his as he sucked the droplet of champagne that had been on Web’s lips off of his thumb. 

“It’s good shit, Web. Wouldn’t want it to go to waste,” Joe said, though why he thinks Web’s gullible enough to believe that when he’s looking at him like that is anyone’s guess.

“Makes sense,” Web says, nodding slowly. “I can probably go score you another bottle if you like it so much.”

“Nah,” Leibgott said, his eyes drifting down to Web’s mouth and lingering there. “Stay.”

Web didn’t feel quite so soft anymore, not with the way Leibgott was looking at him. 

Web’s had lovers. He went to a boy’s school, after all, and at Harvard there had been his married Classics professor. In London, there were certain bars where you could get what you needed. And they did need it, even if it was stupid to seek release so openly, because they were about to die and sometimes a good fuck was all that could keep you from losing your mind. None of it had resembled love, though he’d had his share of fixations. 

There had been girls too, but that had never gone as far. A few kisses at dances, he’d never been confident enough to ask them to park along some lover’s lane. He was always worried that word would get back to his father, so mostly he’d just appreciated how shapely they looked in tight wool sweaters and kept his distance. He’d never gotten close enough to any of the girls he’d mother had set him up with for fascination blossom into the distilled obsession he’d felt for the men he’d taken as lovers.

Web just nodded. He leaned back on the tree and let himself slide to the ground. He grabbed Joe’s hand and pulled him to the ground with him. Joe falls easily. Beside him, Liebgott rests his head inches from Web’s. He grabs for the bottle, and Web releases it easily. Liebgott licks the outside of the bottle, savouring each droplet of champagne that had escaped from the bottle when Web’d uncorked it. 

Since Hagenau, Web had been looking for something in Leibgott’s angry eyes. He kept telling himself that there was nothing hiding behind Liebgott’s intense stares. Hell, it better be nothing. He hates himself for wanting to find lust in the violence. It would be jail for both of them if there was anything lingering there, because he didn’t think he could trust Joe Liebgott of all people to be discrete. The man was all  _ id. _ Not that Web would be any better when it came to resisting his impulses. 

But he knew he wasn’t imagining anything now, not with the way Joe’s mouth lingered on the bottle. Joe didn’t break eye contact, and Web knew in his heart that he was daring Web to look away. He made no secret of the fact that he thought Web a coward. But in this Web was braver than he ought to be. 

“Rough day,” Web said when he finally ripped his eyes from Liebgott’s eyes. 

“You came out here to talk?” Liebgott asked, shaking his head in disappointment. He took another drink.

“Thought you needed a friend,” Webster managed what he thought was an understanding smile, but Leibgott pulled a face in reply.

“A friend’s not what I want right now, Webster.”

“What  _ do _ you want?” 

“You’re gonna make me fucking say it?”

Web swallowed, and nodded his head. He didn’t want to be left with any doubt before he let himself give into the heat coiling in his stomach. Web did allow himself to move closer to Liebgott, so only a few inches separated their lips.

Liebgott groaned. Webster was almost tempted to give in, to put the poor guy out of his misery. It occurred to him for the first time that he may have the upper hand in all of this. When Web had taken himself in hand and pictured this moment in his bunk, night after miserable night in Heganeau, he hadn’t imagined Liebgott being this soft for him. He’d pictured something harder, rushed and urgent, barely pleasurable in it’s rage. But when everything else was stripped away, Liebgott wanted it slow. 

“You gonna leave again, Web?” Leibgott asked, his voice low. He looked up over eyelashes that were almost fluttering. 

He’d be lying if he said he wanted to stick around this war for a moment longer than he had to. But after today… well, he couldn’t say his death would be for nothing. There’d been a purpose in all this misery after all. He didn’t want to think about the camp now, though. He’d drank this much to forget the stench. It hadn’t worked, but maybe the feeling of Liebgott’s hands on him would erase the memory from his mind. Maybe it would help Liebgott too. If anyone needed that, it was him. 

“God, I hope we both get out of here soon,” Web said, though he wasn’t sure if it was the right answer.

Liebgott laughed, and that was all the invitation Webster needed. He closed the distance between them, running a hand through Liebgott’s hair. The first kiss was tentative, just a brushing of lips. The need inside of Web wanted to be on top of him, and Liebgott was certainly pliant enough in his arms that Web knew he could get away with that. Instead, he pressed his forehead to Joe’s and looked into his eyes, probing him for words he couldn’t imagine Liebgott saying. 

“How long’ve you been wanting to do that?” Liebgott asked, smirking as though he’d been doing Web some grand favor. But from the way he asked, Web knew that Liebgott had been wanting to do it far longer than he had. 

He’d never seen Liebgott like this, but he was needy, and Web wanted nothing more than to please him. “Too long,” he whispered, before kissing him again. 


End file.
